


I'll Stay with You (Red, White and Blue)

by lodgedinmythoughts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Fourth of July, Fugitive Steve Rogers, Love Confessions, Nomad Steve Rogers, Pining, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War, Promises, Reader Has Vague Powers, Steve Rogers's Birthday, Steve Visits Reader, Steve and Reader reunion, Themes of mortality, Unspecified Lifespans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 03:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15162104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lodgedinmythoughts/pseuds/lodgedinmythoughts
Summary: Past the quinjet, in between the thin plotted trees, in the shadows where the light didn’t hit, was a silhouette.It was Steve, and he looked nothing like the man from before.-or-Going through the world can be lonely when you’ll be around longer than most.





	I'll Stay with You (Red, White and Blue)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the original version of this nearly two years ago but almost completely revamped and expanded it to fit the current events of canon in time for the opportune day. Happy 4th of July to my fellow Americans and happy 100th birthday to Steve Rogers (oof, that sure is a momentous one that makes me inexplicably happy to live in a time to see it)! Please enjoy while I go cry in the corner at how Steve is fictional.

The spectacle of the fireworks had everyone enraptured. With craned necks, the crowd on the patio stood in awe as the sonorous booms gave way to an amalgam of colors, like a meteor shower heralding feelings of goodwill and joy. In a pointed, unspoken effort, none present had alluded to the underlying tension looming in everyone’s minds. The fracture that had flipped your world on its axis for the past year and counting. All night, the sense of a vague and inexplicable, yet imminent, doom was put on hold in hopes of ushering in a small slice of joy.

It was another year, another Fourth of July, and with a halfhearted attempt at masking his despondency, Tony had decided to host a soiree. The main building of the compound was brimming with guests, alcohol flowing freely and chatter and laughter filling the space to create a lively atmosphere. You held on to the railing with a light touch and watched in contented silence as the show continued above as you welcomed the rare breeze that brushed your bare skin every now and then.

You’d flitted across the room all night, never sticking to one corner for too long. You took comfort in the few familiar faces present, and tried not to dwell on the ones that weren’t. There were others you were acquainted with, having been in the same general vicinity of the compound as the agents moved about doing their work. But you’d never been quick at making friends. Never been much inclined to, apart from the ones you were, frankly, forced to become familiar with by virtue of being on the same team. The team that hadn’t been a team since the Accords.

With a stillness that seemed too abrupt after the torrent of sound, the fireworks show ended to light, scattered applause and most of the guests retreated indoors, unable and unwilling to bear the stifling summer heat. When you thought everyone had cleared, you heard a voice somewhere behind you.

“You comin’?” Though lowered, Tony’s voice was loud in the silence.

You turned and met his eye in the lighting afforded by the sconces attached to the exterior of the building. He stood some ways before you in a black waistcoat and tie, the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up to the elbow. “I’m going to stay out here a bit longer.”

His gaze fell before he offered a small single nod. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed inside, leaving you alone.

In the immediate aftermath of his conflict with Steve, the complete details of which were still unknown to everyone, he hadn’t entirely welcomed you back with open arms. He’d allowed you to return to the compound, keep your home there—he wasn’t a cruel man—but in those initial months, you were acutely aware of how he would cast his gaze on you with a shrewd look in his eye. A slightly accusing one, even if he didn’t mean to. A reminder of how you’d stood stock still when he’d been loud and clear in your ear, yelling at you to crumble the wall of the building to hinder Steve and Bucky’s escape at the airport. You’d been frozen into inaction when you were afforded a split second to imagine the horrific sight of tons of concrete crashing down on top of Steve and Bucky, though you knew they were agile enough to dodge it. Instead, you’d watched from a distance as they neared closer and closer to the jet, until the traffic control tower collapsed anyway at the hands of Vision.

It hadn’t been hesitation on your part merely owing to the fact that the way of things usually called for you all to work with each other and not against, and Tony had known that. He had long suspected your secret attachment to one of the men fighting to get to the jet, and the debacle had only cemented it for him. As time went on, he seemed to come to grips with it. He grew less distant around you, though he never spoke of your feelings for the one who, in his eyes, had betrayed him. They would have gotten away regardless.

You wondered if Steve knew how you’d hesitated in that one moment. It was insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but to you, those seconds had felt like a lifetime.

As you stood out on the patio, next to the benches and potted plants, you closed your eyes and, with acute senses you’d long ago grown comfortable with, honed in on your heartbeat. You listened, felt it as it thumped at a moderate, if not slightly fast, pace.

Out there, where you could pretend there wasn’t a party behind you, you gave in to what you’d fought so hard to make sure were fleeting thoughts, questions you knew you would have drowned in had you allowed yourself to think for too long. But maybe it was the leisurely atmosphere of the holiday, or the fact that it wasn’t just the Fourth of July that day.

With a clear mind and a heavy heart, you let yourself burn in the profound ache in your chest as you wondered where he was, what he was doing, if he was alright out there. If you crossed his mind even a tenth of how much he did yours. It wasn’t likely. He’d never indicated any sort of interest in you, nothing beyond friendship. You were pining after a ghost, a figure that had started as legend to modern society and who might very well go out the same way.

You longed to be able to speak with him, to touch him. Just to see him might’ve been enough. But he could’ve been on the other side of the world, for all you knew. The lines of communication between here and there were closed. What had once grown to become a quasi-family was disintegrated, and the chances of reconciliation were, at the moment, unseeable. For a long while now, you’d been perturbed by an unparalleled sense of bereavement. Some times it was stronger than others.

Though you’d been unwilling to take a chance in revealing yourself to Steve, you no longer had the choice, or even the simple comfort of his presence. He was gone.

Slowly, you opened your eyes. The quinjet was parked in front of you, not having been used as much as it typically was. Past it, the expansive lawn shone dimly under the tall lights spread out and keeping post along the narrow road in the distance. It was almost an unassuming place when inactive, the compound. But to you, it encompassed so much more than just the place where you laid your head at night.

You were easing off the railing, ready to turn back and head inside, when you caught it.

A whisper. Not of a voice, but a heartbeat. A second one to match yours. It was ever so faint, and fluttering more rapidly than you knew yours to be going. You were turned halfway, eyes flickering unseeingly across the stone underneath your shoes. Then you glanced around the patio, thinking it could have been a straggler who, unbeknown to you, had chosen to linger. But there was no one, and even with your prior concentration, you couldn’t hear—didn’t want to hear—the rhythms of everyone inside. No. This second, faint pulsing was discernible for a reason entirely unknown.

Instinctively, you doubled back and faced forward once again, looking out into the dark with a keen, vigilant eye and silent, shallow breaths. Your watchful gaze roved over the surroundings, the hair on your skin standing on alert. But instead of compelling you to run, the peculiar feeling bade you to stay.

Then, on the second look over, you saw it. Past the quinjet, in between the thin plotted trees, in the shadows where the light didn’t hit, was a silhouette. A man, if the shape proved to mean anything. You couldn’t tell anything else; however sharp, your senses didn’t grant you perfect night vision. But who in the present company would be out there, and standing so ominously?

You didn’t have time to think before the figure was slowly inching forward into the dim light. A sudden rush of breath overtook you as your feet brought you back a step in shock.

It was Steve.

It was Steve, and he looked nothing like the man from before. His suit, so dark blue it could have passed for black, was worn and tattered. And his face. It was obscured by a full beard, while grown-out locks of hair brushed his ear. There was a dip between his brows as he watched you, and all you could do was stare back with wide eyes.

Then he was inching forward again, faltering when he made it too close to the light from inside. You followed his line of sight, glancing briefly behind you through the floor-to-ceiling glass before launching off the railing and down the steps, your feet moving of their own volition. When you touched ground, you trekked across the grass to where Steve waited, uncaring in your haste of how eager you must have appeared.

You landed in front of him and, eyes flitting back and forth between his—finally, _finally_ he was flesh and bone once more—you crashed into him without thought. He smelled like worn leather and sweat long since dried as your arms locked around his waist in a tight embrace. You poured the strain you’d felt over the past year into him, doubtful he would receive it, or be able to decipher it if he did. His arms failed to wrap around you in return, and it didn’t even matter. All that mattered was that he was there, alive and seemingly well, returned to you from some unknown place.

Then, it was to your surprise that you felt two hands, rough and heavy with weariness, ghost over your back as though in indecision before they moved to slide more fully around you, one winding down past your ribcage to trap you more effectively against his solid mass, his nose and mouth eventually coming down to press against the top of your head.

It could have been years that you held on to each other. When you finally broke apart and your arms drew back till no point of contact remained, the silence pervaded the short distance between you. You had so many things you wanted to say, had even rehearsed them in those moments of weakness before squashing them away, but coming face to face with him, they evaporated like thin mist into the warmth of night.

“How—” you breathed out, “what—” You could only shake your head as words failed you.

You watched with fascination and a strange sort of detachment as his hand came to land upon your cheek, a curious softness edging its way into his hardened eyes. A disbelieving chuckle fell from his lips. “Come on.” He grabbed your hand and led you somewhere beyond the platform that housed the quinjet, where you were guaranteed to be out of sight.

Words still hadn’t come to you as you let him pull you away. You were simply focused on the man in front of you and how he had found his way back after more than a year. For what reason, you didn’t know, and you weren’t sure if you were going to find out.

“It’s just me,” he said, letting go of your hand. “The others know I’m here, but they didn’t want to risk coming.”

Your lips fluttered open and shut before you could speak. “But nothing would’ve happened to them.”

“We’re wanted criminals.” His tone was wry at the last word. “Virtually the whole world’s on the lookout for us, though there’re always people willing to look the other way in exchange for something to line their pockets.”

“You know there are also plenty of people who are on your side. All over. They don’t agree with what Ross has done, declaring you all criminals.”

“Tell that to my beard.”

Taken aback by the unexpected, somewhat lighthearted remark, you studied his expression. He remained unsmiling as you asked, “Is that why you grew it?”

“Somewhat. You’d be surprised at how much something like this can change your face.”

“Well, it doesn’t help to go incognito if you’re still in your suit. Are you in that all the time?” Unthinking, you reached out to finger a visible stain of dirt.

He shook his head. “We save these for when we need them, which we do sometimes.”

You smirked. “Vigilante life.”

He pushed his gaze to the side, rolling his eyes without actually doing so. “And it’s easier to absorb impact in this.”

It was true. As peak a human as he was, he wasn’t invincible. “How did you get here?”

He jerked his head somewhere off to the side. “Single-seater. I enabled cloaking.”

“How is everyone? Is everyone okay? Where’ve you all been?”

“Everyone’s fine. We’ve been all over, but we’re in Turkey right now. As for the others, they’re a little worse for wear, but you don’t need me to tell you they’re resilient. Some of us like to think of it as an extended vacation.”

You shook your head, amazed at his ability to joke under these circumstances. It was pretty unlike the man you were familiar with. But, as in life, things changed, and people with them. Maybe it was his way of coping with yet another drastic turn of events in his life. You took him in again, still recovering from shock. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“I can’t either.”

“If Tony knew you were here—”

“But he’s not going to.”

“Look, I know how it is between you, really, I do, but if you two could just talk—”

“When we came to blows with more than just our words, the time for talks between us was over.”

You knew the situation was incredibly complicated. You knew you were being naive, overly optimistic with your hopes, but you had to voice them in an attempt to convince, if not him, then yourself. “That’s not how you truly feel,” you said quietly, unsure how he would receive the words. “Time changes things.”

He shot you a meaningful look. “It does.”

“So why are you back, then?”

Steve shifted on his feet, not taking his eyes off you but making no immediate move to answer.

“If you’re not here to try to make amends, what are you here for? I can’t imagine you came just to stand in the shadows and observe the party.” You were struck with the sudden reminder then, and you added, “Happy birthday, by the way.”

Though it was partially hidden by his beard, you could see how the corner of his lips quirked in a poor attempt at a smile. “Thank you.”

You studied his deflated expression and said, “Did you mean to come here on your birthday?”

He lifted his chin and peered down at you. “It didn’t hurt that it is.”

You blinked as your brow dipped. “What does that mean?”

He gave another sad smile and your heart clenched. “It means I’ve got to take the good things in life while I can.”

You tried to decipher his meaning, but to no avail. He wasn’t usually one to be cryptic.

With a stilted movement, he reached out a hand in gesture to you. “Just know it’s really good to see you.” He spoke with undeniable earnestness. That, you were familiar with.

Had he thought about you, then? Or did he mean it in a more general sense the way one did toward a friend? No matter what you said, you knew it would never amount to the depths of what you truly felt. “You don’t know how good it is to see you, Steve.” And with the weight of the world returning to rest its fair share upon your shoulders, you told him, “I’m sorry it’s like this.”

Your meaning wasn’t lost on him. “Me, too.”

But you’d stuck to your principles, you liked to think. Though you could see both sides of the issue from a year ago had merit, your consuming guilt over the collateral damage, over all the innocent lives stolen, no matter the precautions you’d all taken, overrode your fears of overregulation. As much as it had pained you to be at odds with Steve, you couldn’t go on operating under the delusion that the ends always justified the means.

“Don’t be hard on yourself,” he said as though reading your thoughts. “You were fighting for what you believed in. Who knows, maybe in another life…” He trailed off, gaze falling to the side.

Craning your neck, you chanced a glance behind you at the party inside, but in vain. The wall was too high and you were too out of sight. “Maybe in another life, we’d have been on the same side and I’d be out there with you or you here with me,” you finished for him absently. _With me_ , you’d let slip. Not _us_.

When you turned to face him again, you found him watching you carefully, and in his eyes was a disconcerting lack of conviction unbecoming of the mask Steve Rogers put on for the world. “It’s my birthday,” he said simply as he stepped away to lean back against the wall of the platform where the quinjet sat idle above, crossing his arms as he did so.

You moved to do the same. “Yeah.”

“Another year come and gone.”

“That tends to happen,” you offered weakly.

He paused, as though unsure of what your reaction would be. Then he started slowly, “You know, barring any outside forces, I should be around for a while. More than a while, actually, if I’m being generous.”

You furrowed your brow at the change in topic. “Do you know exactly how the serum affects you? In terms of your lifespan, I mean?”

“Do you know, I actually have no idea. Never bothered to ask,” he said ruefully. “Guess I was always too afraid to know the answer.”

You mulled that over in the subsequent silence, letting your thoughts wander to the amount of latent uncertainty in his life. Your life. You and Steve, you were a couple of oddities, a cosmic joke, almost. Two souls warring with their mortality in a sea of innumerable souls who warred with theirs in a different way.

“Do you?” his voice came quietly from beside you. “Know how your powers affect you?”

You shook your head gently. “I could always ask Bruce to look into it, I suppose.” But he was nowhere to be found and, like Steve, maybe you were too afraid to know the answer. You didn’t mention the other doctors at hand who might have been able to help.

“When did you first find out?”

“Years before I was recruited. Something just _felt_ different. But I didn’t fully believe it until Fury showed up at my house one day. You can imagine what a shock that was. He’d heard about the incident and asked me if I understood what had happened to me. That’s when I knew I wasn’t crazy.”

Silence fell over you till the only sounds an average human would have made out were the ubiquitous chirping of crickets and the soft, intermittent breeze that prompted the trees to sway in response. But the pair of you, side by side, could hear so much more than that. You heard the raucous laughter from the party, the clinking glass, the rustling grass beneath your feet. You’d learned to hone your senses, tune out what was unnecessary. But unbidden, the steady thumping of the heartbeat next to you penetrated your ears without any conscious effort on your part. Instead of being invasive, it was just there in the corners of your mind, offering you a small but reassuring comfort. In the dark, your wistful smile went unseen.

“What would you do if you weren’t who you were? If you weren’t an Avenger?” he asked.

You mused on the unexpected question. “I don’t know,” you said simply and honestly. “If this all goes south somewhere down the road, I suppose I have plenty of time to figure things out. What about you?”

“I don’t know. You’re not the first person to ask me that, you know.”

“What did you say then?”

“Same thing I’m saying now. Who I am now is so inextricably linked to who I was before. I wouldn’t even be here to ponder that question if it weren’t for the serum in the first place.” He shifted against the wall, taking in an extended breath. “I thought it was bad when I came out of the ice and lost almost everyone I knew. But then I realized it’s just going to happen anyway. Other people’s lives will go by and I’ll still be here.”

Silently, privately, your heart broke for him. You knew just how crippling the loneliness could be. Knew your natural life would extend beyond those around you, potentially smothering you in your own prison. You couldn’t speak for the few others who might find themselves hanging around longer as well, or where life would take them, but you were certain of one thing. You had long ago given your heart irrevocably to the man beside you, a piece of yourself that might have gone unacknowledged for the rest of time, buried along with you when the time eventually came. Because though you were enhanced in one way, it didn’t erase your fear of the unknown, the pain of rejection.

“I’ll still be here.” Your words were wisps floating across the breeze, but you knew Steve caught every last one of them. “I think about it a lot, too. What I’ll do when everyone’s gone, if I’ll still be doing anything remotely resembling what I am now. I thought I’d come to grips with it. Guess I still have some ways to go.”

“We’ve got a lot of time at our disposal,” he murmured.

You hummed low in agreement. “But how do we keep ourselves from drowning in it?”

“Maybe we should take a few pointers from Thor,” he said with a dry smirk.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep the moisture pooling in your eyes from spilling. Though you were grateful for the cover of night, you knew it wouldn’t escape Steve’s notice. “I know we’re not going to live forever. But hell, it just might feel like it when everyone we know is gone.”

More crickets. The hum of a helicopter in the distance.

Steve’s voice turned pensive again. “I tried not to bring myself down today. I told myself not to let it happen. But another year passes, you’re another year older, and you know it’s just going to keep happening. I signed up for it, though. I knew what I was getting into.”

A thought you’d often wondered before edged its way to the forefront. After all he’d been through, you longed to know. Would he have chosen differently all those years ago had he known what the future held? “Do you…regret it?”

It was quiet for a moment, a long moment, before he finally turned to you. His normally light eyes shone in the dark as he answered, “No. I don’t.”

It was something in the night, in the air, in the breeze whose gentleness matched that in Steve’s eyes. For the briefest of moments, like a long ago dream suddenly recalled, you thought you saw something in those eyes, something that made your breath catch and your heart stop. It was a stunning realization, gut-deep and visceral but comprising no more than a fleeting nanosecond of time as you knew it.

You were unsure when your hands ended up so close to each other, side by side, but when they finally made contact, it felt as though you’d made it to a home you were unaware you had been seeking. No words were needed, the way your fingers filled the gaps in the other’s testimony enough of that connection that at once felt new and as old as time. You found your eyes were closed as you rested your head on his bicep. You could have stayed there forever, or for as long as the two of you had.

Your reverie was interrupted only by the soft sweep of his fingers against the strands of hair that had fallen over your face. You brought your head up to look at him, finding his mouth set in a straight line but a strange glint in his eye.

“Come with me.”

This time, he didn’t mean to another place on the grounds further away from the party. You knew what he was asking and your blood pounded dangerously in your ears as your mind raced through the implications.

“Steve…”

He moved off the wall, hand still in yours, until he stood right in front of you, resting his other hand somewhere near your head. You were effectively trapped.

“Come with me when I leave. Stay with us. With me.”

This couldn’t be real. You couldn’t understand why he was asking such a thing of you. “What are you talking about? I can’t—I can’t just leave. What’ll everyone think? They’ll be worried, they’ll be—they’ll be shocked.” Your words came out rushed. “This is…this is home,” you finished softly.

Then he was removing his hand from the wall to lay it upon your cheek and it took everything in you not to lean into his touch. “I’m about to let you in on a little secret I’ve been keeping to myself these past few years, okay?”

Heart threatening to burst, you breathed out, “What?”

When his thumb swept across your cheek with a desperate tenderness, the tears you’d kept at bay threatened to reappear. “I love you.”

You were helpless to stop the tears from welling up. You were boneless, you were sure of it. It was all a dream. If not for his hold on you, you were sure you would have buckled at the knees. You closed your eyes, covering his hand with yours as the tears tracked down your cheeks. A battered, gentle hand came to wipe them away. When you reopened your eyes, he was watching you, noting your every move. Always you, you then realized. It had always been you.

“God, I love you. I think I’ve loved you for longer than I know. It feels so good to finally say it. I came here to see you, I had to see you.” As his breath left him in a rush, a genuine smile lit up his face, the first of the night. “You don’t have to say anything back. I know it’s unfair to put you in this position and I know you don’t feel anything, but I just had to l—”

“Steve.” Hurriedly, you placed the pad of your thumb against his lips. “I love you, too.”

You watched as the flurry of emotions flitted across his face, from the clear disbelief to the dawning realization. You couldn’t keep the teary, beatific smile from your face for all the world. “Steve Rogers, I am in love with you.”

You were apart from yourself when his lips descended to meet yours. With all your might, you willed yourself to plant your feet back on the ground, though you never wanted to come back down. His warm, steady hands were an anchor as he held you tight, as though in fear you might spirit away at any moment.

When your lips broke apart, you caught a glimpse of a smile before he was wrapping his arms around you and hauling you off the ground. Your arms came around his neck as he twirled the two of you together, your shared quiet laughter, so carefree and colored with bliss, sounding foreign to your own ears. He set you back down and allowed his forehead to remain on yours as your eyes fell closed.

“Does this mean you’ll come with me?”

And just like that, a hole had found its way through the bubble. You opened your eyes and found Steve’s still closed, the welcome and beautiful sight of him so close making you go cross-eyed. Cynically, you resigned yourself to the way of things. At last, you’d been able to experience your own piece of happiness only to have it threatened to be ripped from you shortly thereafter.

You brought your thumb up to brush across his cheek. With deep sorrow, you whispered, “I can’t.”

He stilled. Slowly pulling away, he leaned back until he could fully look at you. “You can’t,” he repeated.

Though everything in you was yelling for you to go, you knew it wouldn’t have been that easy. “My life’s here, Steve. Yours is, too.” Your voice broke as you added, “Stay with me. Please.”

His nostrils were flared ever so slightly from the effort of restraining himself. From what, you didn’t know. His gaze was rife with iron will and, in equal measure, regret. “You know I can’t.”

“And you know I can’t leave.”

Though something in him knew you’d already made up your mind, he pressed on regardless. “Why? Why can’t you leave? The team is effectively broken up. You’re not on the run from the law. You can go wherever you want without worry.”

You shook your head. “They need me here.” He understood your words weren’t born from conceit but rather from truth. “Things are precarious enough as it is. I can’t just pack up and leave after everything that’s happened. It’ll all have been in vain.”

Steve couldn’t fault you for abiding by your principles. He’d always respected you for that and he was a man of his own, after all. But you had always been his silent weakness. Just this once, he was overcome with the primal urge to throw all sense of right and wrong out the window, forget the rest of the world existed so long as he had you with him.

“Steve, look at me.” With a gentle hand, you turned him to face you. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You can stay.”

“I can’t.”

“Then come visit me, and not just once a year. Or I can even come to you. Just find some way to let me know where you are. It can be our secret. We’ll see each other, we’ll make sure of that.” You knew you were grasping at straws, but you had to try.

He let out a defeated sigh and shook his head. “It’s not that easy.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat, unwilling to acknowledge the finality hanging in the air. “Then what?”

Recommitting every feature of yours to memory, from the roots of your hair to the downturn of your lips, he searched your expression, so open and trusting when it came to him that it broke his heart. “We see each other when the time comes.”

You fought against the prickling at the back of your nose. “What are you saying?”

“If you can’t go and I can’t stay, there’s not much else we can do.” He lifted your chin so you met his unwavering stare. “We’ll see each other again. I know we will.”

You didn’t want to wait for an indeterminable amount of time. You didn’t want to drown in worry over the next time you would see him, if at all. You wanted him to stay. You clutched at him and rested your head against his chest, where you could more clearly hear his heartbeat through the layers of material, thrumming in tune to yours.

“I’ll stay with you. Do you know that?” When he didn’t answer, you went on with quiet but fierce determination, “I can be the one to stay with you. When all this is over, we’ll have each other. I’ll be there for as long as you’ll have me. Okay?”

You felt his answer rise from the depths of his chest. “Okay.”

You closed your eyes, willing him to understand the truth of your words. “I can hear your heartbeat.” His hand moved across your hair with a gentle pass. “Even from a distance when I first saw you. I could hear it. It’s strange. I can normally tune them out, but yours still bled through.”

“Would it startle you if I said I experienced the same?”

You pulled back slightly and looked at him. “Really?”

Another sweep across your hair. “For whatever reason, my heart, it…well, it seems to know yours.”

“Huh. Stranger things have happened, I guess.”

His sad smile matched yours. “Especially in this world.” Then, with a reluctant look around the premises, he said with no small regret, “I have to go.”

Unconsciously, your fingers tightened around the material of his suit. “Not already.”

His hand came up to cover yours where it held on tight. “I’m sorry. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.” Ducking his chin, he breathed out a chuckle devoid of any humor. “We keep saying that.”

“Steve.” Your hand on his cheek brought his eyes back up to yours. “Promise you’ll come back.”

His grip tightened around your waist, his fixed gaze solemn. “Nothing could keep me away. Especially not now. We’re sticking together, remember? After this, it’s you and me.”

“I love you.”

His lips met yours for the second time that night, hard and sweet and tinged with a bittersweet farewell. The unknown lay daunting on the horizon, plaguing you both with uncertainty but, with it, a more powerful will to try.

“I love you. More than…” His sigh tickled your cheek. “I love you.”

You felt the press of his lips against your forehead, taking their time in withdrawing. Then, sliding your limbs apart till the last point of contact remaining were the tips of your fingers stubbornly hooked onto the other’s, he turned. You watched as his dark figure retreated further into the night without looking back, distinctly aware of the piece of you that left with him. You stood there until there was nothing for you to see, until the reassuring pitter-patter of his heart was reduced to silence in your head.

You didn’t know when you would see him again. But if there was one thing you were sure of, it was that between the two of you, you had time on your side. Not as much as Thor or Vision or any other nonhuman entity so far unknown to you. But maybe enough was all you needed. And if he was there, you would be alright. It was the truth whispered to you in the recesses of your mind, in the cavern past your ribcage where your lifeblood supplied you with the means to live. You had time, it was true, but you also needed to ensure both of your survival in the meantime.

There were murmurs of an impending war. It was a sinister feeling, one that clawed at your consciousness in those quiet moments. But it remained speculation. No one knew for sure what you were dealing with, but if the events of the years past were indication of some sort of buildup, it was of a magnitude you’d never before imagined.

All the same, if and when the time came, you would fight. And you would see Steve again.

So, with newfound purpose in your gait, you turned.


End file.
